


Bandaids and Safety Pins

by TheEasternEmpress



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, But that’s okay, Especially in the Arkhamverse, Gen, I could probably sit here for a while and list off a bunch of disorders for Jason, Jason needs a consensual hug, Jason yells at a piece of thread, PTSD is a bitch, Post-Batman: Arkham Knight, and lots of therapy, rolls up with an Arkham fic five years late, we all have our bad days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEasternEmpress/pseuds/TheEasternEmpress
Summary: On one of Jason’s patrols as Red Hood, a thug gets lucky with a knife and managed to slice him and his leather jacket. Fixing the damage to his jacket turns out to be much more difficult than he anticipated.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Bandaids and Safety Pins

**Author's Note:**

> So you know how everyone kind of makes fun of Arkhamverse Jason for having a bandaid covering a rip in his shirt and a safety pin holding together a tear in his jacket? What if the reason he can’t fix them is because of his nerve damage and other injuries? Enjoy :)

This was one of those nights that Jason had to remind himself that he actually liked Gotham and wanted to see the city improve. Well, he only liked it sometimes and that was thanks to the chili dog cart on the corner and the orange tabby cat he would occasionally see in the window across the street. But most nights, he’d be happy to see this city turned to ash.

But tonight was one of those nights that no amount of chili dogs or orange cat sightings could cheer him up. Patrol had started as usual and he’d managed to intervene in three attempted robberies, a kidnapping, and even an arson attempt before everything went to shit. 

He’d found a group of men spray painting the brick walls of a business and although Jason usually didn’t care about vandalism, he’d dropped down from the building he was perched on when he saw that it was a Planned Parenthood. A few of the men had crowbars and one had a sledgehammer, which led Jason to believe that the intentions of these men were much worse than just spray painting derogatory things about women. 

He scared one of the men when he was suddenly behind them and taunted, “What’s going on over here, boys?” 

All of them stopped what they were doing and turned to face Jason. They didn’t look like much of a threat, but Jason knew not to get cocky. Joker taught him that lesson when he was 15. 

“We ain’t doin’ nothing wrong, Hood,” one of the older men replied with a thick Gotham accent. 

“I beg to differ. How ‘bout you put all of that stuff down and I let you walk away with your heads. Sound like a deal?”

It seemed that a few of them were more than happy to drop whatever it was in their hands and leave, but the four men with crowbars gripped them tighter and one man pulled a bowie knife out of his jacket. 

Jason shrugged and cracked his knuckles with a, “Have it your way.”

One of the men charged at him, but Jason was quick to fire a bullet into the hand holding the crowbar and then bash his head in with the end of his gun. He dropped to the ground with blood pooling around his head just as another man approached him. He swung the crowbar up with every intention of bringing it down on Jason’s head, but Jason caught his hand and shot him in the abdomen. Once he hit the ground, Jason stomped on his wrist to break it and ripped the crowbar from his grip. 

Despite seeing their two friends go down in seconds, the final three men didn’t back down. The two crowbar-wielding men attacked together while the man with the knife went to Jason’s back. He’d managed to knee one man in the groin while shooting the other in both ankles, but he didn’t have time to attack the man behind him before he slashed across his left shoulder blade. He hissed in pain, but didn’t hesitate to turn around and step away from the man before shooting him in the head. 

All of the men were either unconscious or bleeding so badly they were in shock, which gave Jason the chance to go through all of their wallets and collect any money they had. He slipped in under the door of the Planned Parenthood and grappled up onto a nearby rooftop. The money might not completely cover the costs of the damage, but it was the best Jason could do. 

Jason groaned and bent over in pain when he landed, clutching his shoulder in an attempt to stop the pain. It didn’t feel that deep, but any damage to his shoulder hurt immensely. The winter weather was making the pain in his shoulders act up and feel like the joint was practically frozen in place. Every little arm movement felt like searing pain, and this injury would only make things worse. 

A little voice in the back of his head told him to just finish patrol as usual and treat his wound later, but the logical side of him knew that he had to start treatment sooner rather than later in order to not face the consequences. 

He stumbled his way back to his apartment, clutching his shoulder in an attempt to stabilize it. It might have taken him longer to get home, but it was better to be careful than tear his wound open any further. 

He shrugged himself out of his gear and assessed the damage to his shoulder. Luckily, the cut wasn’t too deep and the bleeding had nearly stopped on its own. It was in a terrible spot to have to stitch up, so Jason was grateful that it wasn’t deep and would heal on its own. 

He rewarded himself with the hottest shower he could stand and cleaned his wound carefully, applying a good amount of antibiotic ointment and wrapping it in gauze once the area was dry. 

With the minimal amount of damage done to his shoulder, Jason knew that meant that his precious leather jacket had taken the brunt of the attack. Flipping his jacket over in his hands, Jason saw he was correct when he was faced with the huge gash across his jacket. 

Jason sighed and pulled his sewing kit out from one of his drawers. It was small and simple with only a few different colors and needles, but it got the job done. 

He dumped out a spool of black thread, sewing scissors, a long needle, and a needle threader. With how unsteady his hands were, Jason was grateful for the needle threader because he knew he’d never be able to thread the needle without it. Even when Alfred was teaching him how to sew when he was younger, Jason had never once been able to thread a needle by hand. 

Jason cut a decent sized piece of black thread and although he had a bit of difficulty with threading the needle, he was ready for the second dreaded part of sewing: tying a knot. Once again, Jason thanked Alfred’s endless patience and knowledge for teaching him multiple different ways to tie a knot. 

Despite using the easiest method Alfred had taught him, the shaking of Jason’s hands made it take longer than it should have. Jason knew that his shaking and tremors were only aggravated by the cold weather, but their true origins lay in what he suspected to be nerve damage and possibly early-onset Parkinsons. At this point, his hands were shaking so badly that the needle in his grasp would have flown across the room if it hadn’t been clenched in his fist. 

Jason was frustrated with himself for taking so long to complete a simple activity. He buried his head in his lap and groaned, feeling the urge to hit something grow stronger by the second. He didn’t realize just how hard he was squeezing his hand together until the needle pricked his finger and he opened his palm to reveal nail marks embedded in his skin. 

He sighed deeply and took some deep breaths in an attempt to stop his shaking and calm himself down. He had all the time in the world to get this done, he just had to be patient. 

Jason threw all cares about patience out the window a minute later when he had pulled the needle through his first stitch and the thread slipped out of the needle’s eyehole. He was tempted to scream in rage, but he knew it was way too late at night for that. Still, he wouldn’t mind the neighborhood reputation as the Enraged Screamer if it meant he could get some of his anger out. 

He rethreaded the needle and began again. The material of the jacket made it hard to pull the needle through, but Jason was determined to continue. 

Three stitches went by without a problem before the thread fell out again. Jason laughed, only so he wouldn’t scream, and took a minute to calm himself down. His shaking only got worse when he was angry. 

Jason fixed his needle and went slower, taking his time to ensure he had a good grip on the end of his needle. For a few stitches, everything was fine. 

When the thread fell out for the third time, Jason couldn’t help himself when grabbed it and he yelled, “Listen here, you fucking piece of trash: you have one job, now do it!”

Tears of frustration streamed down his cheeks as he yelled and cursed at the string. He buried his head in his still-shaking hands and sobbed. The Joker had taken so, so much from him, and this was just another thing lost to him. He threw the needle across the room with a heaving sob, not caring where it landed. 

In his frustrated state, Jason cut the thread and ripped it out of his jacket to reopen the hole again. He’d barely made any progress and there was no way for him to finish. 

This was the life he was left with; unable to fix a simple problem and then being reduced to tears over it. Maybe that’s why Bruce replaced him so easily. Who wanted a Robin who cried whenever he got angry when you could have a rich one?

It took a few minutes for his tears to stop, but the anger and bitterness in his heart continued. Having a breakdown wouldn’t help him fix his problem, it would only make it worse. 

With that thought in mind, Jason began searching his apartment for anything else he could use to fix his jacket. His mind jumped to ‘stapler’, but he doubted he had one here. 

The search stopped when he found a box of safety pins in the back of one of his drawers. Jason figured if he used a couple, it would be good enough to fix his jacket. 

He poured a few into his hand and started threading them through his jacket. To his surprise, they actually worked pretty well. It’d never be as good as actually sewing the hole closed, but that was never gonna happen. 

With his jacket fixed to his satisfaction, Jason tossed it aside and climbed into bed. His heart was still beating like mad and his hands were still shaky, but he had to at least try to go to sleep. Maybe his dreams would be better than the day he’d had.


End file.
